


finned

by shuantics



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Drama, Established Relationship, M/M, Mermaids, Romantic Comedy, Urban Fantasy, mermaid!joshua, re write attempt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-24
Updated: 2019-03-27
Packaged: 2019-11-28 23:11:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18214937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shuantics/pseuds/shuantics
Summary: If Joshua had the chance to live underwater, he wouldn’t look back to land for a second.Well, maybe not literally. But now that he has a tail, it's making it very difficult not to.





	1. swimming fool

If Joshua had the chance to live underwater, he wouldn’t look back to land for a second.

“One more lap!”

Theoretically, of course. Absolutely, he loves his life on land: he has a boyfriend that loves him, family and friends that support him and a future that’s more than promising and extremely close ahead of him. He loves the place he lives in and adores the job he’s working. In fact, Joshua loves his life so much, that during his biweekly deep chats with his boyfriend, he couldn't think of a response when asked what he would change about his life if he had the chance.

It’s just... It's just that there’s something about being underwater. Something that makes him feel completely weightless and totally free.

A shrill whistle cuts through the sound of water rushing past his ears as his hand collides with the tile barrier stopping him just swimming away into the endless sea.

“Time!” a voice above calls, loud and echoing around the confined pavilion walls. Joshua wills his head above the surface just for a minute to look at the boy standing at the pool’s edge. “Three minutes and fifty-nine-point-two seconds,” he says.

With his chest burning and his heart pumping, Joshua rests his arms on the lane lines and pulls off his swim cap and goggles. “That’s not too bad,” he pants.

Jihoon, looking down on him—a rarity, considering his 164cm reach—furrows his brow in confusion, glancing at his clipboard for a minute.

“‘Not bad?’” he echoes. “That’s a one-point-one-seven improvement on your average.”

Joshua smiles at him as he backs up and lies facing the clear glass ceiling. The pool rejects his presence by swashing water over his face, but Joshua feels nothing but calm, like the lapping against his skin was a massage from a million tiny fish. “Jeonghan’s been improving by one-point-eight-nine on his.”

Jihoon scoffs. “Who cares what Jeonghan’s doing?”

“Coach does.” Joshua starts towards the edge of the pool and pushes himself up as Jihoon steps back to take a seat on the bleachers. “And so do Olympic scouts.” He shakes the water from his face before he sits next to his companion, who tuts like a disapproving parent.

“You’re doing amazing, Josh,” Jihoon says. He hands the mentioned his drinks bottle and continues. “You’ll make the team for Regionals, trust me. You might even break your record.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Joshua snorts. He takes a gulp from the bottle and looks at Jihoon. “You made me a smoothie?”

“Hm-hm,” Jihoon replies, eyes not meeting Josh’s. “Milk—because I know you don’t like apple juice—strawberries, blueberries, blackberries, banana, oats… I found the recipe online. It's the, uh, Swimmers Smoothie, I think. Creative.”

Jihoon starts to collect his stuff, shoving the stopwatch into his pocket and the spare papers into his backpack, keeping Joshua's record sheet folded in a tight grip. Joshua watches him fondly, a smile playing on his lips. “Either way, even if Jeonghan’s beating you at averaging or not, that doesn’t mean you won’t get on the relay set. You _know_ you’re one of, if not, the best swimmer in your club.”

“I don’t know,” Joshua replies. He swings around and crosses his legs on the bleacher seat. “I’m starting to get stitches around the fourth or fifth length.”

“That’s because you’re eating too many everything hot dogs from Jun's and ‘forgetting’ to work it off the next morning.”

Joshua gapes at Jihoon, who grins mischievously. “Well, you’re the one who keeps asking me to use my discount!”

“That doesn’t mean you have to eat the junk food too…” Jihoon sing-songs back.

“Shut up. You’re starting to sound like my mother.”

“Oh, I love your mom, thank you.”

Joshua sticks his tongue out to Jihoon, who retorts equally as childishly, and covers the former’s face with his towel. Joshua looks at the offering with a bemused smile.

“You don’t have to do this, you know.”

“What, bully you? No, I think you’ll find it's my obligation to.”

“No, I mean—” Joshua motions around. “Wake up at five-thirty to come to practice and make me smoothies and record my times for me.”

Jihoon lands his gaze on Joshua for a moment before dropping his gaze to the threads of his hoodie. “Well, I like it. It’s refreshing. And I get school work done too.”

Joshua keeps his eyes on him as the latter stands and roots through his seemingly endless backpack for a water bottle. “Hm,” he replies. “Well, it’s not so refreshing after doing it for thirteen years.”

When Joshua says he’d like to live under the water, he guesses he means he wants to live in the constant comfort the feeling of being submerged gives him. When he’s lying on his back in the ocean, watching the way the blue of the skies pass him by until there’s a hue of pink or orange above him; or when he’s feeling the waves wash over his skin, hearing the crash of them against the beach, or how they roll above the surface and he’s below, in the tranquil deep. What he doesn’t want, however, is to have his body woken up before it’s ready, and to spend the next several hours pushing and pacing through resistant waves, only to be rewarded after with a strict diet and a stricter gym routine and to get up and do it all again the next day. The idea of working from the waves is a dream (ooh, maybe in the future, there could be office jobs underwater) but the practicality of spending his every waking minute training and pushing himself shaped out to be a nightmare entirely.

“I don’t buy it.”

Jihoon tuts again, standing so he could look down to Joshua once more. “Well, maybe I just wanted to spend more time with you.” He leans in easily and gently presses a kiss to the other’s lips.

“Oh, yeah.” Joshua nods after a moment. “The bags under your eyes really scream that this is for the romance.”

“Are you saying I’m not allowed to wake up early to help my boyfriend in his swim practice?”

“No, I’m saying you despise mornings with a burning passion and that I think it’s got something to do with you not being able to sleep lately.”

Jihoon shrugs. “I know in my heart I’m doing this for our relationship.”

Joshua smiles. “Ji, I’ve known you for ten years. I know what’s wrong with you.”

“Enlighten me.”

“You’re not sleeping because of your fieldwork next week—”

Jihoon drops his head back and groans. “Shua…”

“And I know you’re trying to hide your fear but, Jihoon, I _know_ you, okay! I know you’re worried about it.”

“You’re making me think you’re more scared about me going on a boat than I am.”

“Because I _am_ scared about it.” Joshua takes Jihoon’s hands in his. “You’re a crippling aquaphobe—" ("Okay, I'm not that bad.") "—who’s doing a marine sciences degree and you’re going to have to spend twenty-four hours on a research ship out in the Pacific ocean. Of course, I’m going to be worrying about you.” He rubs his thumbs over Jihoon’s knuckles. “And I can tell you’re worrying because you’re not sleeping right, you’re not eating right and, most unusually, _you’re waking up at five-thirty to come and help me at swim practice._ Call me stupid but I think that’s not my usual Jihoon's behaviour.”

Jihoon exhales deeply as his boyfriend’s big brown eyes gaze up at him. “I’m fine. I promise. You have bigger fish to think about cathching, like, oh you know, _Regionals._ ”

Joshua hums. “You come first.”

Jihoon rolls his eyes. “Stop that.”

“Stop what?

“Being you.”

“I—” Joshua stammers. “I’m just looking at you.”

“Yeah, well…” Jihoon trails off, pecking Joshua sweetly.

“Well, what?”

Jihoon opens his mouth to reply, only to bite his lip as Joshua leans in again, hand holding his cheek and offering him a longer, slower kiss.

Jihoon’s hand finds Joshua’s in his lap, holding it and smiling against the former’s lips as he turns his head, leaving more kisses to reach the corners of his mouth, becoming longer, and harder until Jihoon’s free hand is curling up in the dark strands of Joshua’s still damp hair.

The door to the leisure centre suddenly slams open with a bang, the weight crashing into the thankfully durable window beside it.

“Alright,” a new voice echoes around the pool. “Your mom is not shelling out a few thousand dollars a year for you to train to spend your time _not_ training, Jisoo.”

Jihoon quickly scurries away from his boyfriend, standing and dipping his head to the newcomer. “Sorry, Ms Park,” he replies robotically, folding his hands in front of his lap formally. Joshua grins and tempts to coo at his boyfriend, but seeing the flush dust over his cheeks, he decides against it.

“I’ll have none of that—” Joshua’s coach, a vibrantly beautiful woman nearing her forties and who was known to her team as Coach Kahi, motions to the two, “—near my pool.”

Joshua shoots Jihoon a shy smile, who seems to shrink further into his shirt.

“Jihoon was just helping time me for the four hundred, coach.”

“And?”

Jihoon almost bounces on his toes. “He’s made a one-point-one-seven second improvement on his running average.” He opens the piece of paper still clutched in his grip. “If he keeps it up—”

“Jeonghan’s shaven off one-point-eight-nine,” Kahi interrupts. “Jisoo is falling behind.”

Jihoon opens his mouth to stammer a reply, eyeing Joshua as the latter mouths a ‘told you’. “Well—”

“He’s going to have to be increasing more if he wants to cut the relay team.” Kahi takes a sip of her polystyrene cup. “And this close to Regionals, distractions could go as a miss.”

Joshua’s eyes find the floor just as Jihoon’s try to find his.

“Yes, coach.” He replies solemnly. He tries to hide the dejection from Jihoon in his eyes and turns to pick up his cap and goggles.

_It’s become a nightmare entirely._

“Olympic registers are coming by tomorrow morning, Jisoo," Kahi says. "And they've requested to see you, Mr Yoon and Ms Zhou specifically."

Joshua picks his head up instantly. "Really?" He spares a glance at Jihoon.

Kahi raises her eyebrows plausibly, again going to drink her coffee. "Something about wanting to take qualifiers to Colorado Springs after Regionals." Before Joshua can reply, she finishes. "So better shape up."

Kahi disappears into an office at the far end of the pool and Jihoon drops the clipboard on the bench with a clunk. “It’s like she doesn’t know she has the best junior swimmer in the whole state on her squad,” he mutters.

Joshua smiles and starts to fiddle with the straps on his goggles.

_Olympic training_. Isn't that everything he's been working towards forever?

"Well, she’s right. I’m not a junior anymore, this is professional swimming.”

“You’re one of the best swimmers in the city, Josh,” Jihoon says. Joshua can tell in his voice he’s getting agitated. “And she’s kicking you down like you’re just another kid who won a Fishy’s First Swim medal.”

“Hey.” Jihoon has a flush to his cheeks that Joshua can feel as he holds the former’s cheek in one hand. “Chill, I just need to practice more.” He adds, with a scrunch to his nose, “and diet, probably.”

"The Olympics though," Jihoon blows out a breath, a smile playing on his lips. "That's a very, very big catch."

Joshua hums. The biggest catch he'll ever get.

He remembers the first time he swam. It was at the beach, and he was six years old. His dad had taken him out on the boat for the first time that day, and Joshua could still remember bending over the rails, his father barking instructions at him on how to handle the masts, but he couldn't bring his eyes away from the deep ocean blue. In the shallows of a secluded lagoon near Laguna Beach, his dad firmly held onto his waist, letting his little legs kick with all their might, wading around the shore like a puppy eager to go on a run. The following year, Joshua won his first county swimming competition and, later, the state championships.

Back then, swimming came as natural as walking, just a little more fun and rewarding. Joshua could lie in a pool, the ocean, a lake—a pond, if it was big enough— until his whole body pruned. He'd go as far as to call the water his second home; there's not been a day since then he's not been swimming. So why is he not excited about this as he should be?

Jihoon claps his hands in front of Joshua's face, who blinks and hums.

"Sorry, what?"

"Are you alright?” Jihoon chuckles. "You went and totally zoned out on me for a second."

"Yeah, sorry." He smiles, reaching out and fixing Jihoon's fringe as he pulls his bag over his shoulder. “You should get going, I don’t wanna make you late.”

Jihoon rolls his eyes and accepts Joshua's lips as he leans down to kiss him. “A whole two-hour lecture about shallow water habitats, I’d be a fool to miss that.”

Joshua kisses him again, and then once more before finally pushing away his boyfriend’s shoulders towards the door. “Go, my little scientist. Go save the dolphins.”

Jihoon hums, waving over his shoulder. “Have fun swimming, my big fish.”

 

*

 

Jihoon moved to the west coast when he was five.

At that time, it was all sun, sand and big opportunities.

Now, his eyes avoid the ocean as he makes his way towards a quieter street just to the west of Venice Blvd.

“Hey, Jun,” he greets with a sigh, stepping into the shade of the cafe and pulling himself into a high chair by the window. Even from here, he can hear the waves wash over the shore and the seagulls as they scavenge for food amongst the never-ending gaggle of tourists. He holds his forehead one hand and swallows down the feeling of bile left in his throat.

“You _do not_ look good, Jihoon,” Jun, a tall, tanned boy who ran the Beach Hut with his ailing mother, comments as he pours Jihoon a complimentary glass of ice water from the counter. “Are you alright?”

“Peachy,” Jihoon replies, smiling in thanks as he chugs the cold beverage. “Just peachy.”

“If you need to lie down, there’s a couch in the back—Hi, what can I get you?”

Jihoon watches as Jun bumbles about his cafe, single-handedly taking orders and fetching drinks as the other shop hand clears away plates and takes them to the kitchen for cleaning.

Wen Junhui’s been a friend of Jihoon’s from since grade school—he’d actually shoved Jihoon into the sandpit once after someone had accused Jihoon of stealing his milk. They made amends quickly when the real culprit had been found and somehow they have been joined at the hip since.

“I’ll be alright,” Jihoon says as Jun works about fixing the customer their requested ice blend. “Just… nausea.”

“Josh was telling me about your fieldwork trip,” Jun says. “You really shouldn’t do it if you can’t handle it.”

The words sound almost like a challenge, even though Jihoon knows they’re not.

When Jihoon was ten, his family took a trip to the beach. His mother, elder sister and younger brother had saved to be able to pay an independent sailor to take them on a private boat ride around the coast. His mother, a youthful, hardworking lady, had often told her children her wishes to take them sailing around the world and it would be his brother, Seokmin’s, first time on the waves since he was born a few years earlier. It was supposed to be a wonderful day, the sun, sea and sand serenity Jihoon had always envisioned day trips in the seaside city to be like.

Jihoon’s done his best to not step foot near the ocean since

“I can handle it,” Jihoon lies, taking another sip of his drink. “I just gotta… you know, get over it.”

Jun looked unconvinced at his friend’s excuse, handing the customer his drink and taking their money with a smile.

“Isn’t there a way you could just, like, do the research from shore?”

Jihoon shakes his head, swirling the ice around his glass. “It’s compulsory to collect the organisms on my own.” Jihoon groans at the thought, his stomach twisting at the image of waves rocking the boat, his spine-chilling at the scent of the salty sea.

“It is imperative you attend this trip,” his professor had said.

Jihoon sat at the back of the lecture theatre, head in his hands, willing nausea to settle before he made a scene.

“Most of what you will learn will be on your final at the end of the semester and, of course, extra credit to those who go above and beyond on the research aspect. Class dismissed.”

Jihoon ran straight for the bathroom and hurled up most of his subpar tasting cafeteria lunch. Jaehyun Jung, Jihoon’s closest friend at college, rubbed his back and handed him water as he asked the question just about everyone else already had:

“Why did you even take Marine Sciences if you’re deathly afraid of the ocean?”

Jihoon looks at Jun and sighs. “It was my mom’s passion,” he says. “And mine. I like the stuff in the ocean, you know, sharks and whales and those weird looking fish with the lightbulbs on them. But its what they live in that terrifies me.”

“Beggars can’t be choosers, can they?”

Jihoon nods towards him and takes the last gulp of his drink.

“Hey, Jihoon,” a bubbly voice says as it enters the cafe. “Hi, Junie.”

Jun almost drops the tea he was serving, droplets scolding his hand. “J-Jieqiong!” he stammers. (Jihoon rolls his eyes.) “Hi. Hey, how are you?”

“Not too bad,” Jieqiong replies cheerily, moving her sleek black hair over one shoulder, her other, bare shoulder reflecting a burst of sunlight. “Just came by to pick up some drinks for the girls. Jihoon, you don’t look so good, honey—” (A name she referred to almost everyone.) “—are you okay?”

Jihoon nods. “Just a bug.”

“Are you ready for a big order, Junhui?”

Jun almost scrambles behind the counter. “Of course! Always ready.”

Jihoon can’t remember a time when Jun wasn’t head over heels for the bright-faced, certified swimming queen, Zhou Jieqiong. She joined Joshua’s swim team when she was sixteen, just a year younger than Jun, and from the first time he saw her crushing the female’s medley like it was walk in the park, he hasn’t taken his eyes off her since.

Too bad she has a girlfriend.

“I’m going to need three of your iced caramel macchiatos, one with an extra shot, two ice latte macchiatos, two ice vanilla lattes, two mint chocolate blends and just one lemonade.” From memory, Jieqiong recites her team's order and Jun scrabbles to type it all into the register. “Did you get that all?” she asks.

“Yep, yep, no worries.” Jun hesitates. “Just to be sure, run it by me again.”

Jieqiong lets out an airy laugh and Jihoon can see Jun’s knees weaken from his seat. She sets off again with her order for ten, and Jihoon returns his attention back to the lumps of ice at the bottom of his glass. He lets out a sigh and drains the water produced as they melt in the sun, eyes scanning the pale green and cream themed cafe. He knows Jun’s mom built the place from the ground up, buying a cheap plot of land burnt out after an unfortunate fire in the early nineties and had sat untouched since. He brought Joshua here on their first official date—if you can call needing an ice pack after Joshua was hit in the head by a stray skateboard over on the boardwalk a ‘date’. Still, it was where they shared some of Mrs Wen’s special honeycomb ice cream, albeit with a swollen eye, and the small cafe titled the Beach Hut just west of Venice Blvd became like their second home.

Jihoon woke up in hospital two days after the family boat trip, Yejin crying to his left and an unknown man with a boy to his right. He barely remembered a thing.

“He’ll most likely have lasting psychological trauma from the event,” the doctor said to Yejin, only seventeen at the time. “Since he was there when his mother passed.” (Busy woman. She wasn’t pulling any punches. Of course, Jihoon was only ten and barely understood any of it.) “It’s advised he sees a counsellor to help with the fact.” She handed his sister a card. “You might want to inquire into seeing one yourself. It’s likely your youngest sibling will be too young to be affected greatly.” And left.

Yejin wiped the tear stains from her cheeks and held Jihoon’s hand. “Ji, this is Mr Hong and his son, Joshua. They’re the ones who called in to help us out, o-on the boat.” Her voice was hoarse and broken and her red eyes indicated this is the first time she’d stopped crying in a while. "We owe them our thanks.”

Jihoon turned his head to the man and the boy beside him. The man, Mr Hong, wasn’t too tall but had fading-to-grey hair and dressed in casual clothing—a boating man’s clothing, whereas his son wore the uniform of a school Jihoon didn’t know of. He bowed his head and thanked them in both languages he knew.

Jihoon doesn’t think his younger mind realized what really had happened until later, when back at home, Jihoon smashed a plate and Seokmin instinctively replied, “Mama’s gonna be mad at you!” That night, he heard his sister cry until her pillow was soaked through.

Joshua wasn’t without him from then on, every day, some way or another, they were together. Without either knowing how the two had become ingrained into one another; a traumatic event to bring two unlikely people into each other’s orbit.

“I don’t I’ve ever seen someone that whipped—”

Jihoon jumps out of his skin at the honey voice sounding from just behind him.

Joshua smiles at Jihoon, who holds a hand over his heart and tuts. “Sorry, did I scare you?”

His boyfriend wears a cap over his probably damp hair, still smelling slightly of chlorine and chemicals, but also of the orange scented shower wash that he’s favoured to wear. “Just a little,” Jihoon scoffs, shifting to face Joshua as he takes a seat beside him. “How was practice?”

“Wet.” (Jihoon snorts.) “Class?”

“Sciencey.” Jihoon tries to ignore the surge of sickness returning to him suddenly. “Talked about the field trip in MMB.” He can feel Joshua’s eyes on him, concern drilling in.

“And?”

Jihoon swallows. “I’m feeling better about it.” Lies. Anything to get Joshua to stop worrying.

“Really?” He can hear this lack of sure in Joshua’s voice.

Jihoon nods and looks at Joshua finally, giving him his most believable smile. “Yeah, just… gonna have to get over it, I guess.”

“Thanks, Junie, you’re a star.” Jieqiong collects the drinks she'd ordered, stacked in three cardboard holders and gives Jun a dazzling smile. She turns to leave. “Hi, Josh,” she greets.

“Hey, Pinky,” Joshua replies—a nickname shared between the members of the swim team—“Coach is looking for you, by the way.”

Jieqiong’s face falls. “Why?”

Joshua raises his hands. “No idea, she looked mad though.”

Jieqiong lets out a quiet whine and shifts from one foot to another. “I told Kyla to cover for me! Thanks, Josh, I’ll see you later.”

“Good luck!” he calls after her as she hurries across the street. Joshua turns his attention back to Jihoon, smile fading to concern. “Baby, you don’t look so good.”

“Literally everyone has said that—”

Joshua stands, taking his chin in his between his fingers and examining his face. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, Shua, it’s just a bug.”

“You were fine this morning. Have you eaten something bad? Jun, do you have any sickness med—”

“Josh,” Jihoon laughs, taking Joshua’s wrist in his hand. “I’m fine. I just need to rest.”

Joshua slumps back into his seat, unconvinced furrow of his brow. “Alright… Do you want something to drink? Eat?”

“Just some water, please.”

Joshua pulls his wallet from his back pocket and makes his way to where Jun was sorting the out the register. Jihoon watches his back and rests his head on his fist, a sudden cloud of fatigue drifting over him. He hadn’t thought so much of the shipwreck since the months after it happened, but with the ever impending fieldwork just around the corner, the nightmares of the wide open sea had been haunting him every night. He’d been losing sleep, busying himself with all sorts to distractions from the inevitable. In the really bad dreams, it’s not just him: it’s Joshua, Yejin, Seokmin, Jun, even his mom—all people he’d give his life to save without a second thought. He’s in a cube, water rising around him, no way to escape with their bodies floating just out of reach. His movement is restricted, he tries so hard to break the walls, but there’s no use; he’s helpless. He wakes in a cold sweat and lies deadly still to hear the patterned breathing of his brother on the bunk above, or for the rustle of his sister getting ready to go work. With tears in his eyes, he’ll text Joshua if he’s awake, who’ll reply asking if Jihoon’s needs him. The answer is yes. Jihoon almost always needs him.

Joshua sits back down with a vanilla ice blend and another cold glass of water before Jihoon can register it. He takes the latter’s hands in his and begins. “We’re gonna do some relaxation exercises, okay?”

Jihoon snorts a laugh. “Babe, I—”

“Sh, it’s okay, just breathe. In.” He takes a deep breath in and lets it out with a sigh. Jihoon follows to amuse him.

“Wow, all my fear and anxiety has just disappeared.”

Joshua leans in and kisses Jihoon quickly, humming as he does so. “You’ll be okay, okay? These people have run this trip hundreds of times, they know how to keep you safe.”

Jihoon exhales and takes a sip of his drink. “I know, I know.” He considers going further but just slumps his shoulders and smiles up at Joshua, rubbing his eye. “I know.”

“Oh, hey Josh!” Another of Jun’s employees, Amber, a short, well-built girl with a sweep of blond hair, enters from the back room, hanging her apron up and signing out in the green book sitting on the counter. “You still up for a round on the dinghies today?”

“Uh,” Josh checks his watch, and then the sun that makes its way towards the sea. “Yeah, sure., I’ll meet you at the marina?”

“Sure! See you, Jihoon. Hey, you don't look too great..."

"Do I not?"

Joshua stands, taking a long sip through his plastic straw. “Do you want a ride home, babe?”

Jihoon shakes his head, letting Joshua stroke his fingers tamely through his hair.

“You sure? I’m not keen on the idea of you walking all the way back.”

“I’ll take the bus.” He chuckles as Joshua’s eyes furrow further. “Seriously, I’ll be fine.” He takes Joshua’s hand in his and brings his knuckles to his lips. “Please, be careful.

“I always am.”

“Promise?”

Joshua leans down, pressing a kiss to Jihoon’s forehead. “Promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> only 18s kids remember this  
> so i started this last summer, deleted it because i didn't like what i'd written and have been looking at in google docs for the last nine months until i recently decided to not study for my exams and write about mermaid joshua instead so ,, here you go  
> there's a distressing lack of mermaid svt by the way, creators please get on it
> 
> hope u like it, lmk what you think thank you, love u uwu
> 
> tumblr: shuantics


	2. how deep is the ocean?

Jihoon knew the storm was coming when the air began to thicken around him. The clouds drifting in over from the west brought warm rain, heavy rain, deafening claps of thunder and blinding streaks of light. The wind blew branches into the window as Jihoon sat at his desk, knees to his chest, school papers scattered out in front of him. His hands kept twitching to check his phone, mind scrambling to everything other than his test on saltwater manifestations.

_“As expected, this evening’s freak storm has taken the residents of Los Angeles completely by surprise.”_

_“Yes, people are being advised to avoid staying outdoors for too long as torrential rain and strong winds are expected to increase throughout the course of the night. Forecasters are saying the worst of it should be gone by dawn but are advising not to take any small vessels out to sea until at least midday tomorrow.”_

Jihoon’s head comes into contact with his desk, pulling the blanket further around him. _Come on, Jisoo, text me back._ He presses the home button on his mobile, the smiling background of himself and Joshua lighting up in front of him, but no little green icon telling him his boyfriend has responded to his texts.

Joshua should’ve been done sailing hours ago—Jihoon doesn’t even want to think about what could happen if he was still out in the bay when the storm started getting rough. The bad images plague his mind like a virus: his boyfriend’s mangled body being tossed around the ocean, his poor bones being crushed between the bow of his boat and a rock front, the light leaving his eyes as he desperately tries to claws his way to the surface.

Jihoon pushes out from his desk with a jolt and grabs his phone in a hurry. He presses the second number on speed dial and paces the length of his shared, box-like room until the tone turns to voicemail. He groans quietly, not too loud to wake his sleeping brother, but enough to quell his frustration and panic until another boom of thunderclaps. Joshua’s always been the one to pull Jihoon close when he’s shivering, afraid of a storm.

“It’s just a little bit of wet rain and a little bit of wimpy electricity—” (Jihoon swears he can hear that honey voice right next to him.) “—you’re safe right here with me, Jihoon.”

And Jihoon knows he is. He’s safe on land, safe with his family. But Joshua might not be, and it only takes one more rumble and the lights in his house to flicker before Jihoon’s pulling on his coat and sprinting out into the storm.

 

*

 

_This is bad._

Joshua’s hands burn from tugging on the coarse ropes, his gloves lost to some monstrous wave coming to crash down on him.

_This is so very, very bad._

The sailing dinghy plunges side to side, roughly rocking over the ocean with masts broken and what was left of the sails to guide him. The dark skies above him crackle and clap in anger, heavy rain striking his skin like the sea had a vengeance against the people.

“I think we should call it a day,” Amber had said just after beating Joshua in another race around the pier. “You can try and win some other day.”

Joshua looked out to the sun almost sinking behind the horizon. The wind was inviting, the sound of the waves sloshing was alluring. It was such a beautiful evening, he couldn’t stand to leave it be just yet.

“You go on ahead,” he called to his companion. “I’m going to go on one more run.”

“You sure?” Amber challenged. “Those clouds don’t look too friendly.”

Joshua glanced up at the foul looking congregation of dark clouds overhead. “I’ll be fine, I’ll dock before they cause any real trouble.” And with that, he swung his weight to the left, and the wind blew his sails further out to sea.

Joshua realises that was a stupid decision. He realised that a while ago. He wishes he was at home, probably drinking a cup of tea and distracting Jihoon from doing school work. He wishes he wasn’t soaked through and being bombarded with heavy waves and freezing winds. He wishes he wasn’t losing control of his dinghy, being flung around like a rag doll, or had absolutely no idea where he actually was.

 _This is probably the_ most bad _Joshua could ever be._

“Please,” Jihoon’s voice calls to him. “Be careful.”

Joshua gives the ropes one last tug with his entire body. Blood drips from his palms, his sides screaming in protest.

_“I will.”_

The cables snap, the ropes ripping into Joshua’s skin, and his body is sent flying into the freezing depths of the unknown sea.

 

*

 

Jihoon takes a second to stare up at the tall, white house on the corner of the street. Joshua’s family has always been well off, and it shows with the three-story vastness of the almost mansion that they call their home. The lights inside are mostly off, save for the downstairs foyer and one light upstairs which Jihoon begs is Joshua or at least his mom. He huddles up under the porch over the door and rings the doorbell twice.

_Please be home. Please be home. Please be home._

The light flickers on as the heavy black door opens. Mrs Hong stands there, peeking through the crack, seeming to let out a breath when she notices it’s just her son’s boyfriend. Her son’s very, very damp boyfriend.

“Jihoon?” she questions, still with a hint of an accent. “You must be freezing! What are you doing out in the storm?”

Jihoon accepts her offer of entering their home and tilts his head. Before he can utter a panicked word, Mrs Hong adds, “Is Jisoo not with you?”

The sinking feeling in his gut is enough to physically pain him. “I—He isn’t home?”

Mrs Hong looks between Jihoon and the rain flooding the street outside. “No, he told me was going sailing, I assumed he’d gone back with you.”

Jihoon wants to break down and cry. “He—he might still be out there,” he chokes. “He hasn’t texted or called me at all.”

Mrs Hong runs pale.

_This can’t be happening, this can’t be happening. Please, God, if you’re there…_

Jihoon’s never been one for worship but prays that all those years Joshua spent at Sunday service amounts to something now.

“I’ll call Jun,” he says, frozen fingers fumbling with his phone. “He has the number of the girl he went racing with, he could just be with her and they could be safe. His phone could've just run out of battery or been lost. He's always losing it..."

_Could._

As Mrs Hong ushers him into the warmth of the living room, announcing that she’ll call the coast guard, the words Jihoon repeats to himself seem to be less and less believable.

 

*

 

_Air._

Joshua can’t breathe. He can’t move. He can’t think.

_Swim._

Forces drag him further from the light, like the hands of the sea are clasped around his ankles, pulling him ever deeper. He’s so cold, his limbs are tired, he can barely keep his eyes open to see the waves wash over the racing surface.

_Jihoon._

Joshua never really believed in the whole life flashing before your eyes thing, but as he feels the ache of his chest trying to hold in his last breath, all he can think about are the people he loves. He sees his mom, the happiness she wears when her son makes her proud, every warm cup of tea drunk together on the rooftop talking about whatever they could. He sees his dad, every time he’s taken him out to sea, and shared just a little bit of his passion with him. He sees Jihoon and everything he loves about him from his hairs on his head to the tips of his toes. He remembers every time he’s ever felt happy in his life, every medal, every hard practice paying off; every smile, every laugh, every fight and difference settled with Jihoon, every time he’s had him wrapped up in his arms, every kiss he’s ever placed on his lips.

He can’t leave them, not like this, not now.

He cranes to find the fight inside of him, the sheer will to keep his legs kicking. He promised his mom he’d be home for tea, and that he’d go fishing with his dad this weekend. He promised Jihoon he’d be safe. He can’t die now. He _won’t_ die now.

Suddenly, his body screams at him in pain, crushed against the force of the tide and a rough, jagged edge that pierces deep into his side. _Rocks._ He’s not far from the surface, which means he can’t be far from shore. _I_ _will not die now._

With all the might he can muster, the water blurring red around him, Joshua pushes his body, gripping one saw-edged rock to another. As he moves, his body catches more obstacles, incising deep into the arms and legs. He wants to scream but can see the dark cloud and flashes of lighting merge and wobble the more he wills his body to find a footing in the sand that lifts higher and higher beneath him.

 _I have to get home, I have to see Jihoon. I will_ not _die now._

Joshua is in so much pain. Every time he takes a stroke towards the surface it’s like a thousand bones are breaking under his skin. He thinks of all the times he’s heard his friends shout for him, his mom and dad cheer for him, Jihoon joking he’ll make it worth it if he wins. Nothing will ever amount to the need Joshua has just to hold him even if it’s for one last time, not even the relief of the air soaring into his lungs as he breaks the waves and takes the only breath that’s ever mattered in his life.

“Help!” He knows its useless screaming, but it’s the only thing he can think to use his voice for before he’s dragged back under momentarily, then thrown back up to breathe.

Just a few meters away, through the thick, heavy rain, Joshua can see the dark outline of what he hopes is land, or at least a large ship not too big enough to sail right over him. In a new strike of lightning, he gets a flash of the cliff, waves crashing continuously against it’s white, crumbling face. With what strength is left kindling inside him, Joshua sets off in that way, battling the ripper waves and sinking below every few seconds. It feels like years have passed him until he can finally feel the waves thin around him, sand hard beneath his feet, and the exhaustion wash over his whole body as he wades his way through a resisting current, and crashes down in a heap on the sinking shore. He can’t bring himself to care about the tongue of the sea still lapping over him—he’s on land, he’s alive, he can breathe and make it back home another day. In some twisted relief, he chokes out a laugh.

The disgusting taste of salt water id on his tongue but the feeling of _take that, mother nature you raging bitch_ warms his frozen, seizing bones.

 

*

 

_“He said he was going to do one more round, then he’d come in.”_

Jihoon doesn’t think he could sink further into despair. “So, he’s not with you?” He chews relentlessly at his nails to the point they sting and paces his way around the Hong’s family home.

 _“No, I’m sorry Jihoon,”_ Amber takes a breath in. _“You don’t think… he’s still out there? Do you?”_

Jihoon wants nothing more than to just cry, go to sleep and wake up in Joshua’s arms like none of this day had ever happened. “I don’t know,” he admits. “I really, really hope he isn’t.”

_“Get back to me as soon as you know anything, okay?”_

Jihoon swallows the thick lump plugging his throat. “Okay.” _What if we never find anything._ He holds his head in his hands, hearing Joshua’s mom talk frantically with the coastguard on the other end of the phone before her shuffling feet join him in the open kitchen.

“They’re searching a ten-mile radius from Santa Monica and have sent word to the base in Long Beach to keep an eye out. Is there any place else he could’ve gone on land?”

Jihoon shakes his head. “I’ve called all his friends, all the members of the team, even his coach. No one’s seen him since Amber left him in the bay.” He sighs and gives Mrs Hong a reassuring smile as she stays on hold in anticipation. “He’ll be okay,” he says, but doesn’t know who he’s reassuring.

“I know…” Mrs Hong begins. “I know this must be hard on you, Jihoon.”

She’s right. Jihoon feels like his soul is constantly being crushed each second he knows Joshua isn’t safe. He swallows again, the dire need to wail out in sobs scratching more and more at this throat. “I’m okay,” he lies, holding tight on the last few scraps of his composure. “I know he’ll be okay.”

 _Please, please, please._ Jihoon doesn’t know if he’s praying but hopes some God, some benevolent spirit is listening to him. _Please, I can’t lose him like this too._

 

*

 

Joshua isn’t sure how long he was lying still for, but the storm stays raging above him when he feels a pair of warm hands grip him. For a fleeting second, he thinks it could be Jihoon until a loud clap of thunder shakes him as well as one of those hands landing hard against his face.

“Hey!” an unfamiliar voice calls. Joshua’s eyes sting as he tries to open them, the cuts on his body howling as he tries to move. “You okay?” The stranger, a male, tries to lug his body up from the sand, to no avail. “Come on,” he groans, and Joshua feels an odd relaxation from the tone of his voice. “I can help you, you have to get up!”

Joshua doesn’t recognize anything about him— not his face, not his voice, not the rough texture of his hands. But he wills himself to his hands and his knees, the strangers arm hoisting him to his feet and pulling him along the soft sands towards the cliff face. Joshua’s head is too heavy to pick up for long, but he carries his feet with the pace of the stranger, hurrying until they’re under the shelter of an arch, and the harsh stones underfoot scratch and slice his bare feet more.

“Thank you,” he utters as he’s guided into an even darker crevice underneath the arch, his voice hoarse, his lips blue and numb. The stranger doesn’t respond, only lugs Joshua up higher, sliding over the damp rocks until dank wood becomes apparent under the soles of his feet.

The sounds of the angry ocean fade further away and Joshua wonders how the stranger doesn’t even stumble in the darkness. Soon, light begins to bounce around the passageway, illuminating the glisten of the wet rocks around them. The storm rages on above, and Joshua can just about hear it echo as the stranger pulls him into an opening forming a small cave space in the heart of the cliff. He doesn’t want to pose too many questions, fearing the helpful albeit quiet stranger will take offence, but his eyebrows unintentionally shoot up as he notices the various lamps, and more strangely, the makeshift mattress, the wooden desk and the pin boards standing up cluttered with papers and red markings. It looked like the set of old-school explorer movie. At the far end, Joshua notices a rock pool, sitting undisturbed, unlike its outside counterpart, with the water being a crisp, almost enchanting colour of blue.

He’s eased down on the mattress on the uneven planked floor and told to rest. Without wary, Joshua does and closes his eyes, finally being able to take a breath. It was calm again, just how he feels when he’s floating on the water. Weightless, like an untouchable being. Everything feels fine.

He thinks about Jihoon, envisions him in front of him, holding out his hand as to lead him somewhere. “Hey,” Jihoon’s voice says, soft and gentle and so, so inviting. “Wake up.”

“What?” Joshua’s voice doesn’t sound like his own, but some distant echo of some kind.

“Wake up.” He can see Jihoon’s smile. “You can’t go. You promised me you’d cook me that pasta I really liked next week.”

Weakly, the corners of Joshua’s mouth lift up. “Yeah… I did.”

“So, don’t fall asleep on me, dumbass.”

“I won’t.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.” Joshua lets out a long, aching sigh. “You’ll wait up for me?”

There’s no response. Just the sound of sea slowly creeping back into his head.

“Jihoon?”

Suddenly, Joshua opens his eyes and jerks with a gasp. A surge of water passes from his throat and he rolls to his side, spluttering and spitting it out.

“Where am I?” Joshua settles back onto the mattress and pants, wiping his eyes and coming to terms with the environment around him. Only when he can control his breathing can he hear the stranger respond.

“You’re on one of the Channel Islands,” the stranger says and Joshua feels a wave of relief wash over him. _Thank God he hadn’t drifted some way to Hawaii._ The stranger turns his back on Joshua and starts to fumble around his desk, clanging test tubes and vials like some crazy scientist. “We can get you home shortly.”

“Thank you,” Joshua says again. He wets his lips, the dryness of his throat feeling thick and painful, but feeling too awkward to ask for a drink unless he’s offered. “D… Do you live here?”

There’s a pause. “I research here.” The stranger still had yet to look at him, but Joshua could tell he was well built, not tall but with strong shoulders and defined features, a tuft of brown hair on his head. He didn’t look old either, but just barely older than himself.

“Research?” Joshua asks without thinking. The stranger hums and quickly follows:

“How long were you in the water?”

Joshua hesitates. He tries to shift, but the sting of his wounds is horrible, and he lets out a hiss between his teeth. The stranger finally glances over his shoulder at him intently. “I don’t know… a few minutes?” He was _not_ getting the right vibes from this man. It’s like he was rescued from a tiger only to be stalked by a lion—prey either way. “Do… do you have something to drink, please?” he tries in a meek voice. “Or something to put on my cuts… they hurt a lot.” He’s acutely aware of the bleeding now. It’s not heavy, but enough that it made him woozy. The biggest of them all was a deep, long gash that spanned the length of his calf, stinging and gushing badly.

The stranger seemed to pay him no mind. He turns his back on him again, muttering to himself. “A few minutes should do…”

Joshua wants to ask more questions, the red flags were thoroughly raised and waving. _God, I just want to go home._ Before he can ponder, the stranger pulls himself closer to the desk, his shoulders hiding whatever tinkering he was doing, and Joshua feels like he would take the ocean as opposed to this guy.

“Who are you?” Joshua finally speaks, swallowing past the lump wedged in his throat.

"I'm just a scientist," the stranger says.

Joshua tries to relax. _A mad scientist, oh great._ That's exactly what he needed. He looks around the cave, grimacing about how someone could spend time here. "What... are you researching?" He asks, clearing his throat and trying to be civil about the stranger's seeming lack of integrity. It's not like Joshua's bleeding out here or anything.

"M... marine life."

"Oh," Joshua replies. "My boyfriend's going into that field." _Can I go home now?_ There's a long pause, silence full of the stranger playing by his desk. Joshua could see the pin boards full of notes from his seat, but not clear enough to read them. Newspaper clippings titled _SIGHTING_ scribbled out pictures of fish tails and flowcharts showing the chain of the ocean. He discards it as just typical science-y stuff and finds his eyes end up on the pool. The crisp, bright blue waves look inviting, like if he weren't incredibly creeped out and just coming from a near-death experience, Joshua probably would've taken a dip. "So, uh... do you know how long until the storm passes?"

The stranger doesn't answer. Joshua nods to himself, pursing his lips. "Cool," he whispers, gradually being able to feel his limbs again. It was surprisingly warm in the cave. "Do you have, like, a boat? That can take us back to the main—"

"You talk a lot, don't you?"

Joshua shuts his mouth, muttering, "Sorry."

The stranger looks over his shoulder again, smiling a smile that put Joshua on edge even more. "It's okay. They like that."

Joshua swallows thickly. “I’m sorry, what?"

The question seems to fly over the stranger’s head, and he turns around to kneel next to Joshua on the mattress. “Drink this.” He offers Jisoo a flask, it’s contents hidden by its metal exterior.

Every alarm bell sounded in Joshua’s head, every stranger danger talk in school playing on a loop.

“Go on, it’s just water.” Joshua could see the stranger’s features now: young looking, with flushed cheeks, eager eyes, and dark eyelashes that fanned over his cheeks. He looks like anything but a crazed scientist that could be luring Joshua into his lair, but just like a boy you’d accept a flyer from on the street. “I promise you’ll feel better.”

Dubiously, Joshua reaches out and takes the flask, his thirst trumping all need for sense and caution. He puts the cold metal to his lips and in a daring move, tips the contents into his mouth.

It tasted just like water, but thicker, like it was mixed in with something— _oh, no._ Joshua glances at the desk, and then back at the stranger, swallowing thickly. “What—” he feels a sob coming from his throat. “What was that?”

The stranger doesn’t answer, instead grabs Joshua's leg, just by his wound, and tips a test tube onto it.

Joshua lets out a wail, the sting lasting for nothing more than a few seconds. "Hey, what the—!" He can't break free.

“How do you feel?”

Like the hypochondriac side of his brain had been sleeping, Joshua knew that whatever was in the tonic indeed did make him feel better. Warmth took over him suddenly, heating his bones to moderate from the inside out. It scared him, for the sting of his wounds started to slowly fizzle away too until they were no more than an itch easily satisfied by a breath. Joshua starts to hyperventilate, scurrying up from the mattress across the hard lain wood of the cave. As he feet press against it, he can barely feel the impact, his whole body overcome by being numb.

“What _was_ that?” He repeats, more frantically, kicking at the stranger and edging away.

“It’s okay,” he muses, but his calm voice wasn’t soothing Joshua now. “Listen, you need to hear me out—”

“No!” Joshua lets out a cry, panicked, frightened. Slowly, his limbs start to ache again, his legs gradually seizing up. _What’s he done to me? What have I done to deserve this?_

“You might wanna—”

“Who are you?!”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t ask you, but it’s rare that this just happens. I can't let you go.”

 _“What happens?”_ Joshua feels hot tears rolling down his cheeks. _Oh, no he's going to keep me here. Why didn't I just drown?_   _Please, I don’t want to die._

“You just have to remember now that you’re not going to die, but it will hurt. I’ve given you—”

Joshua doesn’t get to hear the rest of the sentence. His feet find an edge, and his whole body is again submerged in water.

Whatever calm the pool at the edge of the cave looked, it wasn’t reflected underneath the surface. Joshua is twisted around in a maniacal cyclone, the bright blue water pulling him deeper and deeper into the depths. He thinks it might be the time to recount his life once more, but all he can think about is the pain.

His whole body feels like it’s approaching the sun, burning from the tips of his toes to his waist to his chest, to his head. It’s like there was a fire burning him inside out.

_Don’t fall asleep on me._

He wants to scream like it’ll help quell the pain.

_I won’t._

He can’t hold the anguish in any longer.

_Promise?_

It feels like his whole body was being distorted, bent out of shape, mangled to something inhuman.

_Promise._

He feels like his skin is flaking away, and it only takes one last searing pain, like a knife into his neck.

_I’m sorry. Jihoon. I’m so sorry._

He opens his mouth, and against the water rushing in, he screams.


End file.
